Them
by Xirysa
Summary: FE7 It's so hard to ignore gossip, she thinks as she passes them. Especially when it's about you.


**Xirysa Says:** Got this idea in my calculus class the other day. Thankfully, we weren't doing anything (the BC half of the class was taking a test, so we AB people had a study hour) so I could start writing it down. I've… Never written this pairing before. So if it sounds odd, that would be why.

* * *

Them

They all think that she doesn't know.

They couldn't be more wrong.

How couldn't she know, she muses when she passes them in the corridors and they switch their conversation to something so mundane like the weather? It's not exactly that difficult to hear gossip, she thinks as they resume their discussions, especially if it's about _you_.

"_How could anyone like her be one in St. Elimine's services?"_ they twitter as she passes them, staff in hand. _"No one like her could have lasted long."_

"_I wonder how she didn't drive the other acolytes and clerics and monks and bishops up the wall?"_

"_Maybe they ignored her."_

"_And maybe pigs fly."_

Then they laugh some more and gossip some more and talk some more and _my_, did you see what she was wearing that night? How scandalous!

"_And either way, she left the clergy."_

"_Yes, she did. And then she broke her vows."_

"_Her vows of chastity?"_

"_The very same."_

She doesn't really mind the talk, though, because that's all it was. Talk. So what if she was once in Her services? So what if she had left the clergy? So what if she had broken her vows? So what if she had fallen in love?

Surely, St. Elimine wouldn't damn her for that.

"_What a cunning little vixen!"_

"_I know—using her friendship with the Marchioness to her advantage!"_

"_Maybe she's just using her. And the Marquess, too. They were all apparently close to each other during the war."_

"_Oh, the nerve of her! And with her husband being the general, too…"_

Then they get to _that_ particular topic and she wishes that she could jump up and down and scream and throw a tantrum and _yell_ at those blabbering _fools_ to just _shut up_ for _once _because she doesn't care if they talk about her like that, just don't drag him into those bloody conversations! But she can't because she's a lady now and only the old version of her would act so strongly about it in public.

"_You know he's more than ten years her senior?"_

"_Of course! Who doesn't?"_

"_Well, the general is a man…"_

"_So she's there to take care of his 'special needs'?"_

"_Probably. Why else would someone his age marry someone so young?"_

"_Good point…"_

They laugh, and oh! How she hates the sound of it! But she can't ignore it—that's what they always do when they talked about him and her like that. The only good thing is that they're usually done with their conversation at this point, so with a swish of her skirts she's moving through the castle and trying so hard _not_ to cry and—_damn it all_, was that a tear she just felt running down her cheek?—_Hell's bells_, she's not supposed to swear…

And now she's inside her chamber, sitting on the bed with her face muffled in a pillow, trying to dry the tears she doesn't want as they trace a path down her face. She doesn't care if her makeup is ruined because it's only makeup and she can put it on again when she leaves the room. Then she hears the door open and even the she knows who it is and wants to run into his arms, she can't because she doesn't want to stain something so loving and gentle and pure.

But he closes the door behind him and sits on the edge of the bed hesitantly, as if he's afraid she'll break if he touches her. He reaches out one large hand and touches her knee shyly, like he's a young school boy, and she can't get over how _light_ it feels.

"Serra…" he whispers, and she hiccups when she looks at him. "Serra, ignore them. They don't know what they're saying…"

She sits up and dries her face with the corner of her sleeve and takes a deep breath to stop her voice from wavering so much. "But they're right, you know. For the most part."

He moves closer to her and forces her to look up at him. She thought that he would be angry, but his expression looks so sad and gentle and tender, and she thinks she's going to cry _again_ because she just _loves him so much_…

"They," he says as he gestures to the door, "don't know what they're talking about."

"Yes, they do. They all know how I was when I was little, and they all know how weak and fickle and so darn _stupid_ I am…" He chuckles quietly at her last statement while pulling her closer to him and resting his head on top of hers, and she takes a deep breath before she continues. "And then they said that I seduced you…"

She can feel his jaw tighten. "_Seduced_ me? Is that what they said?" he growls as he strokes her hair possessively.

"N-no…" she feels her voice crack and curses herself for being so weak. "They said that I was here for your 'special needs'…" she trails of and looks at him, afraid for what his reaction _could_ be, even though she knows he'd never hurt her on purpose.

He's silent for a moment and then surprises her when he starts laughing. "My special needs, eh?" He bends down and kisses her lightly. "If they're gossiping about people who are so _obviously _in love, then those so-called nobles must not have very much fun."

How he can make her feel so happy when she's clearly _not_, she'll never know. But she leans up and kisses him back, and she knows that he knows she'll be all right soon.

He pulls away and stands up, offering her an arm which she takes gladly because she doesn't know if she'll be able stand up on her own for while.

"Shall we?" he whispers in her ear, and she shivers because after knowing him for so long, he still has the same affect on her.

"…No. Let's not go. Lord Hector and Lady Florina and even Matthew can take care of everything." Her voice doesn't waver, and she's pleased to note that her voice isn't cracking anymore.

He raises and eyebrow and looks at her. "Serra…"

And she smiles up at him sweetly. "Yes, Oswin?"

He sighs and pushes her towards the door. "I do believe it's a requirement for the bride and groom to be present at their wedding banquet." He looks at her pointedly and she giggles.

She leans into him and inhales, loving his scent. "Whatever you say…" she murmurs, and her smile widens a bit when he pulls her closer to him.

"You also may want to fix up your makeup before you go."

"Is it that bad?"

"A bit…"

She untangles herself from his arms and makes her way to the small vanity. Checking her reflection, she grimaces a bit. "Oh, my…"

But a few minutes later, she's ready to go and they're walking down the hall to the ballroom. They enter, and everyone cheers as she takes her place next to her husband—_her husband!_—at the head of the table.

And when dinner is over and they're dancing and he accidently steps on her foot because _generals of Ostia aren't supposed to dance_, she forgets everything they ever said.

**

* * *

**

**Xirysa Says: **Meh. I really don't have anything to say on this. Just some random stuff thrown together, really. Feedback and criticism would be much appreciated!


End file.
